


A Needed Respite

by Topicabo



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Clothed Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, Mind Meld, Mystrade is Magic, Vampire Bites, Vampire Mycroft, Vampires, they're so soft together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:01:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24624409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Topicabo/pseuds/Topicabo
Summary: An exchange of care.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 21
Kudos: 139
Collections: Mystrade Is Magic





	1. Chapter 1

Long week, a miserable slog of a case. Greg hadn’t had his reserves this tapped since being put through his paces as an officer. Evidence was scarce and formed nothing better than a vague picture of events, and leads were slow in appearing. He had a terrible habit of taking on that dog with a bone mentality at times like this, when work was the preferable option to going home and sitting alone with his thoughts. Multiple days in a row of staying on well after his shift had ended, letting the hours bleed into the double digits. He was on his second night of doing it. Or maybe it was three? 

Sally was the one that marched into his office at eight o’ clock and helpfully informed him that actually, it was four nights in a row. And that she would be reporting Greg to the DCI if he wasn’t out by nine o’ clock and stayed out until Monday morning. She’d marched back out again before Greg could argue, and scuffed pride aside, he was secretly glad. He just didn’t have the energy for it.

The outside chill at least woke him up a little, hopefully enough to see him through the trip home. He trudged down the steps of NSY and paused; going into his coat for the cigarette he didn’t have the discipline to feel guilty for having on his person, despite the patch on his arm and promises made. It was nearly to his lips when he glanced up and noticed the long black car idling across the street - passenger door already standing open.

A flicker of heat curled under his collar. 

Greg got the cigarette in place and turned away – casual disinterest as he pulled out his cheap plastic lighter that’d seen better days. One click. Two, three, and a little wavering flame sputtered to life. He lifted it to the tip.

The flame went out.

Greg’s hand wasn’t quite as steady on the second try. This time, he just caught the caress of air, tickling the back of his neck as it snatched away his light again. 

Greg breathed in, slowly. He pocketed the lighter.

“Something I can do for you?”

A hum stirred the silence. The empty space behind him suddenly wasn’t - mass where there was none just moments ago. 

“I was under the assumption you were quitting.” Greg’s eyes flickered closed at the brush of words against his ear.

“Yeah. Been a bit of week.” 

“So I gathered. One does tend to fall back on certain - comforts in trying times.”

Greg smirked a little then. He turned, just holding down his shiver as he faced the full weight of the gaze locked on him.

“S’pose you’d know about that, Mr. Holmes.” 

Mycroft’s soft chuckle came with a smile, faint and clinically professional. Its deliberate blandness was a bit at odds with the shrewdness in those keen eyes.

“In answer to your first question, I’d like your opinion on a small matter. That is, if I might beg a few minutes of your time?”

_Fucking hell, yes._

“Sure,” Greg said, rather surprised how even his voice came out. His thoughts had to be nakedly obvious on his face, and he couldn’t bring himself to care in the slightest. “Wouldn’t mind a ride home, to be honest. Can chat on the way, f’you want.”

“Of course, Detective Inspector,“ came the reply, in a murmur low and dark, ”I’d be only too glad to.” Mycroft’s smile widened just that much, and Greg caught the barest flash of them – sharp and white, peeking out from beneath the upper lip. At the same time he felt the tingle, what he could only describe as a sensation of _pull_ unfurling restlessly under his skin, drawing his feet in the direction of the car. 

There was something unfocused in it, though.

The reason became obvious once the car doors and the privacy screen were closed, and Greg found himself pinned roughly against the seat with cool lips crushing against his own faster than he could blink. 

Obviously, control wasn’t in play for Mycroft at the moment. For either of them, really.

“Thought you were in Prague,” Greg managed, gasping as he was dragged astride a pair of firm thighs. 

“Up until a few hours ago. My obligations were fortunately short-lived.” Mycroft’s fingers scrunched into Greg’s hair, yanking his head back to expose his throat. “I wished to surprise you.”

“Yeah?” Greg twitched at the wet, trailing lick over his Adam’s apple. “Good trip, then?”

“Besides corralling the floundering collection of brain cells I’m forced to consider colleagues?” A shuddering sigh gusted against Greg’s neck. “That I’ve come to find even a day away from you intolerable, let alone several?”

As if Greg needed to be told. As if he didn’t feel exactly the same. 

He took advantage of the loosened grip on his hair to surge forward, caging Mycroft against the leather upholstery like he’d been. He could hardly bother with being tired now, not if he was going kiss that clever mouth properly. It was like a days long fog finally lifting from Greg’s brain, nerves awake and buzzing.

“You think I couldn’t feel it before?” Greg husked. He bit down on Mycroft’s lower lip, harder than he would risk with any normal person. Mycroft hissed with pleasure. “Way you were pulling at me?”

“I – what? W-when did I-?”

Greg smiled into the next kiss, soothing where his teeth had been. “Thought so,” he murmured. With a careful curl of his tongue, he sought out the protruding tip of Mycroft’s canine, tracing down its curve. “Don’t even realise you’re showing, do you?”

A quiver went through Mycroft’s jaw. Greg felt the twitch of a frown as the extended points were suddenly less so, their length receding back. 

“Hey, hey, s’okay. Nothing I haven’t seen.” Greg nudged at Mycroft’s nose with his own. “You’re a bit pale too, love. ” 

Mycroft’s brow quirked, either in fondness or discomfort.

“As you said, long week.”

“Still don’t like it when you stretch yourself thin. Was there too much going on to get away for a bite?”

Mycroft rolled his eyes at the phrasing. “Hardly.”

“Then what?”

A quiet fragileness passed through Mycroft’s expression. He glanced away.

“It’s - somewhat presumptuous, I fear.”

“Myc,” Greg coaxed, stroking Mycroft’s cheek, “c’mon.” He watched Mycroft take a moment, working the words around in his mouth.

“I no longer use donors.” Greg’s fingers stilled. “Or anyone else.” Mycroft’s gaze flicked to his neck. “Not since you began allowing me to...”

He trailed off, a little uneasy as their lips met. Greg cradled his face with both hands, tilting his chin up to delve deeper. Mycroft’s eyes were depthless when they parted for air. 

“M’yours, Myc.” Mycroft breathed in, trembling as he listened. “All of me. Fuck, you – you treat me better than I ever thought I was worth. I mean it. If I can do at least this much for you, then-“

“This isn’t a transaction,” Mycroft whispered fiercely. “You’re not expected to – _sustain_ me, in order for us to be together.” He sought the shelter of Greg’s chest, gripping onto his shirt. “I couldn’t bear if you thought that.“ 

“I don’t. I don’t, promise. Just wanna take care of you, that’s all.” 

Mycroft shuddered. Hesitantly, his arms looped around Greg’s waist.

“I missed you, Gregory. Quite keenly.”

“Me too,” Greg said, mussing Mycroft’s hair. “Sorry, kinda feel like I killed the mood.” An amused huff warmed the fabric of his shirt.

“No.” Mycroft sought Greg’s free hand, pressing a kiss to his palm. “I’m rather glad you did.” 

A cautious knock at the privacy screen lifted Mycroft’s head. His eyes flashed to Greg’s, a little sheepish. As Greg moved himself onto the seat, Mycroft reached for the intercom button.

“Apologies, Benton. Drive please.”

The car pulled out of the parking lot without a sound. Greg watched NSY slip past in the windows, curling contentedly into Mycroft's embrace. 

“Myc.”

“Hmm?”

Sighing, Greg let his head fall back and to one side. The long fingers resting on his shoulder tightened into his sleeve.

“Here. Should have some.” 

Greg heard a slight dry click in Mycroft’s throat as he swallowed.

“That can wait until tomorrow. I’d rather you slept first.“

“I’m just knackered is all. You getting a quick pick-me-up isn’t gonna do any harm.” Greg smiled and closed his eyes. “Go on.”

The silence hung, muddied by the wheels of the car over pavement. Then came a quiet exhale. The space around Greg suddenly seemed to change, hugging in around him as Mycroft shifted nearer. 

“You are extraordinary,” Mycroft whispered, kissing the edge of Greg’s jaw and further down, “truly.” His mouth was gentle, almost reverent, settling halfway between collarbone and chin to suck delicately at the skin. Greg couldn’t quite catch onto his gasp.

“T-think you’re biased.”

Mycroft’s lips curled. “Breathe in, Gregory.”

The pain in these moments never seemed exactly real to Greg. He knew it hurt – it always did. But it was distanced from him, sweetened into a sensation that never failed to make him pant a little. Mycroft’s hand was warm cupped against the other side of Greg’s throat. His soft, trembling sounds rose from the silence; Greg loved every one of them.

Greg seemed to drift as the seconds swirled away, utterly safe and at peace. He missed the point when Mycroft’s teeth pulled free; only realising they had as a few parting licks were swept over the marks left behind. Most likely already healing, from past experiences. 

Mycroft drew back with a shudder. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, pressing their foreheads together. Greg’s eyes opened to find Mycroft gazing at him, his expression beautifully relaxed and a flush already noticeable in his cheeks. Greg smiled dopily at the sight.

“You’re welcome.” Mycroft’s fingers passed through his hair, lifting a groan from low in Greg’s throat. Feedings always seemed to leave him a little over sensitised. Just the simplest touch felt like heaven. Greg let himself be guided down, his head coming to rest on Mycroft’s lap.

“Shit, sorry,” Greg yawned, blinking against a sudden wave of drowsiness. “Maybe should just - rest my eyes a min...”

“Perfectly fine. It’s still another 30 minutes out of London.”

Greg grinned up at him. “Somewhere new?”

Mycroft nodded. “Somewhere private. I’m afraid you’re to be incessantly spoiled this weekend.”

“Mm, don’t think I’ll be complaining.” With a deep sigh, Greg let his eyes close, tilting his head up into the continuing petting. “S’nice. Keep doing that?”

“Of course.” Lips pressed to Greg’s forehead, whispering as he dozed off. “Sleep, Gregory.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a soft smut sunday, but it became a bit too long for that. It seemed better for Mystrade is Magic, though I'm late on that too. XD It's not a very dark vampire story; Greg and Mycroft just wanted to be utterly soppy with each other. Oh well. XD


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Greg needs to be settled...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're still being fluffy and soppy as all get up. :)

Greg had a fading awareness of the motions of the car, the noises of the city passing by. When he fully awoke again, there were luxuriously soft sheets below his back, and Mycroft’s hands carefully undoing his belt.

“Hm?” Greg stirred, glancing round. “We there?”

“Yes. You slept soundly the whole trip.”

“Don’t remember walking here,” he yawned, taking in the high ceilings, the room more than double the size of his own flat, gorgeous wood paneling and burgundy and cream tones. He also noted his shirt and vest were already off. His socks and shoes were gone as well.

“Because I carried you. You slept through that too.” Mycroft worked Greg’s trousers down to his thighs, pausing at the sight of Greg’s grin. “Don’t say it.”

“Does me not saying it make it any less true?”

Mycroft scoffed, even as the corners of his mouth quirked. “This notion you have of my so-called ‘softness’ is bewildering.”

“It’s a good thing, you know? I’m just working with what I see.”

Greg saw it then too, as Mycroft’s expression gentled in a way that eased the cold timelessness of his face into something much more human. 

Mycroft cleared his throat.

“You’re kind to think so. Lift your legs, please.”

Greg let it be. It was patient work, shifting through all those well-worn assumptions Mycroft had formed of himself. Ones in place for possibly centuries. Greg had only been at it for a number of months, but he did his best to challenge them when he could.

“Posh, this,” he drawled, easing back against the mattress. “S’nice.” The four-poster was pleasingly spacious, outfitted with a cloud-like comforter, matching pillows, a full canopy and pull cord curtains. Pretty as an advertisement. 

Greg couldn’t wait to muss it all up. 

“You seem rather at home already, Gregory.”

“Oh yeah...” Greg gave a sinuous stretch, intended to raise Mycroft’s eyebrow. It worked. “Enjoying the turn down service too.”

Mycroft grimaced in a fondly appalled manner. “I’m undressing you for bed, not for sex.” 

“Why not both?”

Oh, there was a look to be savoured. The slow blink, the pool of Mycroft’s pupils darkening as he stared down at Greg. 

Greg folded his arms behind his head and gazed back, smiling.

“Got a second wind now,” he murmured, idly bending a leg at the knee as though he didn’t realise how it opened up his thighs. “Take me hours to get to sleep at this rate.”

“So we’re using sex as a sleep aid now?” Greg’s pulse kicked as Mycroft settled by his side on the bed. Greg pulled him in, enjoying the stroke of that high-end suit fabric against his chest. 

“Worth a try. Don't wanna be too tired for all that spoiling you promised.”

“Hmm.” Mycroft closed the distance, his kiss cool and familiar. His touch curled round Greg’s wrist. “Then we must settle you somehow, mustn’t we? Let’s see-”

With a gentle tug, he guided Greg’s hand into place. 

A moan was lost between their lips as Mycroft’s fingers settled atop Greg’s, lacing through his, coaxing the start of a lazy pattern of kneading. 

“Oh yes… there you are.”

Greg let his eyes close. Better for concentrating on the rhythm, on touch and deepening kisses. “Hard to be anywhere else,” he whispered, his hips already twitching with the urge to rock. 

Mycroft sighed, shivers threaded in his breath. 

“If only. Such precious few hours in a single weekend.”

“Fuck, think what we could do with a week.” 

“God,” Mycroft groaned, “a _month_.” 

Soft, easy laughter rose between them. The sort that always seemed to leave Greg a little more in love than when it had started. He gazed up at Mycroft, breathless with it, grinning and happy down to his bones. 

When questioning fingertips lingered over his waistband, he nodded. 

“I’d go, you know,” Greg said, shivering as Mycroft drew his pants down and off with familiar ease. They disappeared over the side of the bed - whether or not Greg would see them again by Monday, he didn’t know or care. “Serious. Wherever you wanted to take me, for as long as you wanted me there.”

Mycroft reached for Greg’s hands again, gently trapping them up by the pillows. He ignored Greg’s noise of protest and leaned down for his jawline, tut-tutting over the prominent shadow of stubble born from three days of neglect. 

“Some place the world couldn’t find us? I fear I may not wish to give you back.”

“Assuming I’d even want to come back.”

Mycroft smiled, slightly. He brushed a kiss on the tender stretch of skin by Greg’s ear. “Well, as we’re already here,” Mycroft asked, and Greg had the sense he saying something different in his mind, “what shall we do to make the best of it?” 

Their eyes met, and then their lips. Greg pulled at Mycroft’s grip, just for the satisfaction of feeling it hold. He was nearly aching now with the need for friction, tightness, _anything_ , and his frustration made it all the better. 

When they broke for air, panting against each other’s mouths, Greg had his answer.

“What if we-“ Greg nudged Mycroft’s forehead. “In my head for a while?” 

Mycroft stilled, his lips parting again to question. Greg caught them in another kiss, whispering, “Missed it. Being that close." 

“…I as well,” Mycroft said. Greg nipped at him, a little roughly, wanting to commit his bitten back gasp to memory. 

“So…?”

Mycroft took a few moments to breathe. “It’s rather concerning how persuasive you are.”

“Nah. Just got you soft on me, remember?”

Mycroft’s mouth curled against Greg’s.

“So long as you’re willing to take responsibility for it.” He released Greg and sat up, going to undo his waistcoat. 

“Wait.”

Mycroft paused, fingers still on the first button. 

“Just the jacket,” Greg said, softly.

A particular look crossed over Mycroft’s face, bemused and fond. He nodded and stood. 

Something warm and eager unwound itself low in Greg’s belly as he watched Mycroft expose his shirtsleeves to the open air one by one. 

“Is this really so evocative?” Mycroft asked, hanging the jacket away safe in the closet.

“’Fraid so. Absolutely filthy thoughts about waistcoats and garters for the rest of my life, thanks to you.”

Mycroft scoffed, but his quiet smile had a different sentiment. He returned to the bed and climbed astride Greg’s hips, hands tilting Greg’s face up to a better angle for kissing.

“I should like for you to lie back,” he murmured, “and let me see to you. Very slowly and gently.” The possessive clench of his thighs lanced a shiver down Greg’s back. “With a mind for ‘ungently’ in the near future.”

“F-fuck, Myc-“

“Among other things.” Mycroft hummed into one last press of their mouths. “Now. Eyes on mine.”

Whenever they did this, Mycroft’s eyes never did anything overly dramatic like in the movies - going black or glowing red or some bollocks like that. The only noticeable signs were the sudden dilation of his pupils; a flicker of pressure just there at the back of Greg’s neck. It gave a cautious push, withdrawing for a few moments, and then teased outwards again.

“Go on,” Greg said. He breathed with the swells, chest rising and falling, his mind slipping deeper beneath the surface on each one. “I-It’s okay. I’m fine-” 

“Patience, Gregory. I did also say slowly.” Light as Mycroft’s tone was, it was firm as well, a clear sign that he would not entertain any more discussion on the matter. Greg’s heart squeezed at the thought. 

_Still protective of me, even now._

He found Mycroft’s hand, trailing his fingertips all the way up to the knuckle, stroking a thumb over the boney knobs. The corners of Mycroft’s eyes crinkled with a smile.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, soft and wondering. 

“Can’t you tell? Must be halfway inside my head at this point.”

Mycroft huffed in amusement. 

“I’ve never professed to be a mind reader, Gregory. Just frightfully observant.”

“But – wait, sorry-“ Greg had reached that point when talking became a bit complicated – words he should have known kept changing meaning, and he had to choose new ones to compensate. “Always figured you – just – saw everything.”

“Not to that extent, Gregory.”

“So – w-what are you - seeing?”

“You.” Mycroft’s voice had become silk, caressing over the expanse of Greg’s skin, sinking down to his very veins. “Those things that lie deeper than just thoughts. Your trust, the depth of your hunger for me, your – regard.” He sighed, smoothing a hand across the v of Greg’s hips, the touch so insubstantial Greg wasn’t sure it had been physical. “Though perhaps it’s only my own desires I’m seeing, muddying the waters…”

“It’s not,” Greg said. “It’s not. Same… for me…” He thought he might be trembling now. Seemed about right, considering a good portion of Mycroft’s consciousnesses was cosying up to his, a steady trickle into Greg’s very ordinary, unremarkable brain. It could easily be too much, but through it all - a constant flow of calm, soothing away each flash of panic before it could even occur.

 _I mean it, Myc. I’m…_ Greg breathed deep, staring into that endless place reflected in Mycroft’s gaze. _Know you can’t see my thoughts, but – you feel what I mean, don’t you?_

Mycroft shuddered, his pupils going wider still. “Gregory…” His lips twitched, and an answering wave of affection surged through Greg, like he’d plunged into a warm bath full of the stuff. Somewhere else, a second deeper, sharper warmth bloomed with it, startling a gasp from Greg’s mouth. His hips jerked.

“Oh – oh fuck. _Fuck_ -“

The shock of physical pleasure quickly brought Greg up to speed on a few points.

He was hard, probably had been the entire time, with the kind of edge that made him want to writhe. 

Mycroft’s hand was a firm ring around his cock, slick already with the lube Greg couldn’t remember him getting. 

Those delicious, quick strokes meant this was going to be over in a matter of minutes, if even that.

Greg arched, clenching at the bed sheets, panting through his teeth as _touch_ and _there_ and _yesyesyes_ blurred and spun between them. 

“Myc – gonna - c-can’t - much longer-“ It was happening, all at once; tightening, tensing- 

“Then come.” Mycroft’s actual voice, rough and breathless, rose above everything else. “Come now. Let me have – oh, _Gregory_ -”

It blew through Greg with the force of a dam bursting; pouring, flooding, breaching. Greg felt Mycroft feel it too, felt him shake and gasp along with him; pleasure feeding pleasure. Mycroft, on top of him, in him, surrounding him, whispering frantic, wordless praise and adoration straight into his head, wanting – _needing_ Greg to keep coming. To come hard, and long.

As if Greg could do anything else.

The relief was almost as good as the orgasm, soaking through every muscle and bone, pulling Greg down into the mattress like a lead weight. Patterns and colours darted behind his eyelids – he had no idea when he’d closed them. 

“My-“ Greg winced at the crack in his voice. He swallowed, tried again. “Myc?”

Relief pulsed through Greg’s heart as arms drew tight round his chest. It took some effort to turn onto his side so he could hug back, needing it when he felt so raw and fragile. The inside of Greg’s head was strangely empty without Mycroft in it, and a little lonely too.

Mycroft seemed to understand, because of course he did. He knew to wait, quiet and patient, letting Greg take whatever time was necessary until things were alright again.

Once he had, Greg loosened his grip a little and spoke.

“D-did you… get to-?”

Mycroft gave the softest laugh. “Thoroughly, thank you. Rather in need of laundry services now.”

Greg grinned. Maybe. Hard to tell what his face was doing. “Right… Clothes off… next time…”

“Best not to make the hotel staff gossip too much.” Mycroft checked, and then gently eased himself away to stand, a bit unsteadily to Greg’s delight. He stripped off the rest of his clothes, pausing once with a grimace at the state of his trousers. “Though I should most likely inquire how thin the walls are. As a courtesy.” 

“Oh, s’I loud?”

“I doubt you were the one solely at fault,” Mycroft said as he disappeared into the bathroom. He reemerged after a minute, a little more put together despite still being naked and carrying a small towel. “Besides, I enjoy when you’re loud. Especially if I’m the cause of it.” 

Just those careful, cleansing strokes between his legs and over his chest had Greg wishing he could get hard again. He closed his eyes, breathing in shudders at each slow, wet swipe. 

“Can’t stay quiet when you’re involved. Not possible.” As Mycroft climbed back onto the bed, spooning up to Greg’s back, Greg somehow knew he was smiling. Maybe something of that supernatural influence was still in effect.

“Perhaps you just need practice.” Mycroft’s breath gusted warm over Greg’s neck, followed by his lips. “So, will you sleep for me now?”

Greg sighed, gathering Mycroft’s arms around his waist. “Could sleep for a week after that,” he muttered, sleep-induced fog getting thick and heavy in his head.

“Let’s say until ten to start.”

Greg groaned happily. “God, sex and a lie-in. Fucking perfect…” 

“Yes, you are.” Mycroft squeezed him, gently. “Good night, Gregory.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many water related metaphors. O_O I didn't know writing a mind to mind thing would be that complicated. XDXD


End file.
